


The Misadventures of Tori and Jade

by ZephyrEden



Series: Crossroads [2]
Category: Crossroads (Series), Original Work, The Misadventures of Tori and Jade
Genre: Hunters & Hunting, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Road Trips, Supernatural Elements, Title Subject to Change, Urban Fantasy, Violence, warnings and rating subject to change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 00:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16169462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZephyrEden/pseuds/ZephyrEden
Summary: Astoria has been on the move her entire life, never slowing down or bothering to make many connections. She doesn't plan on changing that now, even if this little... sidekick is a new addition her travels.





	The Misadventures of Tori and Jade

Her truck never breaks down, but it figures that the one time it does it would be, of course, in a town so small that it doesn’t even have its own mechanic shop. That’s how she finds herself on this bus now, traveling to the next town over where her truck was towed.

She sighs, eyes drifting along the passing forest as her head leans against the window. She doesn’t like being driven around by others, doesn’t like not being in control of where she’s going and the speed she’s going there. Her arms tighten where they’re crossed against her waist, eyes narrowing as they stare out into the repeating pattern of greenery that seems to be the only thing around here.

“How much longer?” she calls to the bus driver just a few feet away from her. The person sleeping a couple rows back, the only other passenger in the vehicle, grumbles a little and curls in further on themselves as they lay across the bench. She rolls her eyes.

The driver’s eyes dart to the rearview mirror, a sympathetic chuckle leaving him as he sees her frustration. “Still another hour. Sorry, dear.”

She sighs again, the breath drawn out and more dramatic than it needs to be. “Nah, it’s fine,” she shrugs, turning back to stare out the window. “Not your fault the damn place is so far away.”

The trees don’t provide much entertainment. Not watching them like this, at least. If she had her truck she could have stopped off, taken the time to explore the woods and see if there’s anything worth anything hidden in their roots and branches. All they’re giving now is cover from her prying eyes, lucky only to anyone hiding in there. But then again, the chances of anyone actually being in there are-

Eyes. Bulbous green eyes, staring at her from the tree line.

She straightens in her seat, whipping her head around until it won’t turn anymore, but they’ve already passed the spot and she can’t see anything there. “Hey,” she calls again to the driver who must have given his name at some point, not that she can recall it. She turns back to face him, leaning forward against the partition separating the front row and the stairs. “Back in Wislawa, I heard reports of animal attacks lately. Any truth to that?” She makes it sound like casual conversation, that of a bored passenger, and keeps the urgency out of her voice. Not that there’s any need to be urgent in the first place. She sees strange things all the time, this is hardly anything of note. Even though that’s true she finds herself rolling her shoulders, physically trying to shake off an instinctual emotion crawling down her spine.

“Yes, ma’am,” the driver drawls, nodding solemnly. “They aren’t unheard of or anything, sure. I mean, just look at all this forest around us. We got things like bears wandering out every now and then. But the attacks, they’ve been real frequent as of late. Had two just in the last week. Closest we’ve ever had two attacks together is a couple months. My neighbor, Jim – good guy, that one – he was one of the last attack victims. Been down at Stone Point General ever since.”

She hums, fingers drumming against the wall. “Anyone see what’s been attacking?”

“Not that I’ve heard of,” he says, now shaking his head. “Definitely something in the woods, though.”

Her brows furrow. “How do you know that?”

His eyes dart up to the mirror again, watching her expression more than the road. “All the people that’ve been attacked were near the forest when it happened. Whatever it is is territorial, if you ask me.”

Her lips press together in a thin line, teeth gnawing at the inside of her cheek.

“Don’t you go getting any ideas now, missy,” he warns. “I don’t wanna see any newspaper saying they found a Miss- ah, I’m sorry, dear, what was your name?”

“…Astoria,” she answers after half a beat, the slight hesitance in her response going unnoticed.

“I don’t wanna see any newspapers saying they a found Miss Astoria out dead in the woods, you hear me?”

She smiles, huffing out a laugh. “Don’t worry,” she assures, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “You won’t be seeing any newspapers like that.” That’s a guarantee.

If anything ever happened to her, she’s sure her body would never be found.

“Well, good,” he says with a firm nod and a proud look on his face. “Anyways, the attacks are only happening on the Wislawa side of the forest, so you just sit back and relax ‘cause there ain’t nothing you’ve gotta worry about in Stone Point.”

She obeys, sitting back and looking out the window again as she wonders if that’s true. Regardless, there’s enough time before they get there to take a quick nap, so that’s what she settles on doing. Her eyes are closing and she swears she sees that same pair of green ones out in the trees again, but her eyes are already closed and she doesn’t feel like opening them again. It’s best not to dwell on these things, anyways.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“ _Days_?” she repeats incredulously, as if saying it herself will make it untrue.

“Sorry, Miss, but that’s how it is with the weekend and all,” the greying mechanic says apologetically, wiping the grease off his hands with a rag that’s seen better days. “Best case, might get the part in on Monday, but it’s more likely that it’ll be Tuesday. Work won’t take but a couple hours most, so whatever day we get the delivery is the day you’ll get outta here.”

Astoria sighs until she can’t anymore, throwing a glance at the old truck she’s here for. It’s looking pretty sorry now, lifted up on the hydraulics while the flaying paint chips off and flutters to the ground. It’s a good truck, though, and she doesn’t intend to let it go just yet so she accepts the wait she’ll have to endure to get it back. She waves to the mechanic as she leaves the garage, not bothering to hide the pout on her face as she trudges down the street to find someplace to stay for the next few nights. She hopes there’s a hotel. Not that she has anything against the bed and breakfasts that she often has to stay in when passing through towns so small they’re barely on the map, but she’s found through experience that the less personal a place could be, the better. For her, at least.

She’s not seeing any hotels, though, and the sign reading “ _Inn_ ” down the street looks like it’s attached to a rather small building that seems a little too… _homely_ for her tastes. Bed and breakfast it is, then.

There’s a little bell that rings when she pushes open the door that grates on her nerves in the worst of ways, but she tries not to let it show on her face. She’s not sure if she succeeds.

“Welcome to the Stone Point Inn,” a bright-eyed woman cleaning the inside of the front windows greets with a cheery smile that does nothing for Astoria’s mood. “Are you just passing through town or are you looking for a room?” she continues, unaffected but the shadow of a scowl that’s being directed at her.

“A room,” Astoria answers, eyes wandering around the rustic interior. “For a few nights, if possible.”

“Of course, of course,” the woman sing-songs, dropping the cloth she was using to clean on the window sill and motioning her guest to follow her to the oak stained counter up front. “Can I get a name?” she asks, flipping open a leather-bound guest book that, while the pages look new enough, must have been used since the little inn opened. She holds a pen over the blank section, waiting for an answer.

“Astoria… Winters,” she answers after a second. She taps her fingers against her thigh as she listens to scritch-scratch of the pen across the form. “I’d like to pay up front.”

The woman lifts her head, eyes opening a bit wider in curiosity. “Oh?”

“I’ll pay through Tuesday, though I might be leaving early. Is that okay with you?” she asks, trying not to sound too harsh. At this point she just wants to go to whatever _quaint_ little offering of a room she’ll be having and groan into a pillow for an hour. Maybe then she’ll feel a bit better.

The woman seems confused, but starts to slowly nod her head. “I don’t see a problem with that, no, but are you sure? If you leave early you’ll just be wasting your money…” she trails, teeth scraping her bottom lip as if the thought of a guest spending too much was a crime.

Astoria huffs quietly but lets a sincere smile pull the corners of her lips up, softening the area around her eyes. “It’s not a waste,” she assures her. “I’d be happy to support your establishment.” Just because she isn’t fond of the whole tone of the place, doesn’t mean she wants it to go out of business. She’s surprised most of these small-town inns stay afloat when it’s likely the tourism here is… abysmal.

The woman flusters, nodding and averting her eyes back to the slip and then to a calculator. She taps some of keys, waiting for the result. “Your bill will be three hundred and-“

Astoria already has her wallet out, quickly counting out bills before putting the small stack on the counter. “Let’s say four hundred even,” she smiles.

The woman starts to shake her head, “No, no, please that’s too much-“

“I insist.”

The innkeeper takes a calming breath before giving a single firm nod. She scribbles something down on the paper then turns around to pull one of the keys from the wall hanger. “Our biggest room,” she says in a voice that means she won’t tolerate Astoria not accepting. “It’s on the third floor, the door on the left.”

“Thank you,” Astoria says with a nod, hiking her duffel up higher on her shoulder before taking the key.

“Enjoy your stay! Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Astoria is about to wave and brush her off, but a thought stops her. “Do you have a local newspaper?”

“Oh yes,” the innkeeper nods, walking briskly to what must be a lounge room and coming back a few moments later. “Today’s issue,” she says with a bright grin, handing it to her guest.

Astoria takes it with a gracious nod then heads up the stairs, ignoring the way the boards squeak as she walks up the flights to the third floor. The door unlocks easily and swings open, showing off the spacious open room.

She kicks the door closed with her heel, dropping her bag by the entrance with a sigh of relief. She toes off her boots while she walks to the king-sized bed towards the center of the room, sitting on the edge as she unfolds the newspaper. She isn’t surprised by the headline.

**ANIMAL ATTACK VICTIM HOSPITALIZED, SIXTH CASE IN UNPRECEDENTED CHAIN OF LOCAL INCIDENTS**

She hums to herself, chewing on the inside of her cheek as her eyes scan the article before deciding there’s not much information to be gleaned from it. Looking over her shoulder at the inviting bed with a sigh, she decides that groaning into the pillow will have to wait for a while.

She drops the paper on the mattress beside her and moves back to her bag, picking it up and unzipping it before upending it onto the bed. She looks through the mess before she finds the object she’s looking for. Practiced fingers slide the worn sheath off the survival knife, trained eyes making sure the serrated blade is in good shape. It’s not her weapon of choice but considering where the other one is she supposes this will have to do.

“Well now,” she hums to herself, tucking the covered weapon into the back of her pants while she slips her boots back on, too impatient to wait for nightfall with the lingering image of those eyes in the back of her mind. Her eyes track to the woods past the window and a grin lifts one side of her mouth. “Let’s see

**Author's Note:**

> The characters and settings featured in the Crossroads series are original creations owned by me.
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/deepseasalt_) | [tumblr](http://thewritingvoid.tumblr.com) | [carrd](http://zephyreden.carrd.co)


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